


Somewhere Out There

by Cygfa



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-02-22 22:16:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23201236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cygfa/pseuds/Cygfa
Summary: If your a Starfleet Officer and a Astromycologist, dating is made a little more tricky by distance. But Hugh Culber and Paul Stamets are not going to let that stop them.(aka Some loosely-connected scenes of Hugh and Paul during their early dating phase and long-distance relationship.)
Relationships: Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets
Comments: 12
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

“And that’s it,” he handed his instruments to the nurse to his left and flexed his fingers for a moment, eyes still on the surgical site.  
“Let’s close,” but even before he had said it, he was being offered the tissue regenerator. Many doctors left this last step to the nurses or to medical students if they had any, he often did so, too, but today he felt the need to complete all the steps. He was moving his hand up and down the incision, watching as fist muscles and tendons and then skin were slowly closing again. As he was doing so, he could feel the tension in the room abating. And as he finished closing and slowly surfaced out of the concentration that was part of any surgery, he slowly became aware of the rest of his body, the pain in his feet and lower back, and the stiffness in his knees as he stepped back from the table. He only glanced at the visitors’ gallery where many of his colleagues had gathered and were applauding. It had been a long surgery, a little more than 10 hours, a glance at the chronometer told him, just as he had anticipated in the planning stages.  
“Well done, all, thank you,” he said, pulling down his surgical mask and smiling at his team. “I think we all deserve some rest now.” He nodded at everyone in turn and exchanged a few more words with them as they filed out of the room, slipping out of the surgical gowns they wore on top of their uniforms.  
Exhaustion kicked in while he was scrubbing his hands and forearms, and by the time he was ready to head out of the ER, he felt every bone in his body. But there was also the deep satisfaction of not only having completed a task but having completed it exceptionally well. This surgery had been weeks in planning, due to its experimental nature and had cost him many a sleepless night. He stepped into the corridor that separated the OR area from the rest of the hospital and the first set of doors closed behind him.  
_Sleepless nights with Paul._ The thought made him smile. Their video chats had become a regular occurrence and even on nights when they were both working, Paul on data relating to his mushrooms and theories about star paths, and he himself on the preparation for this surgery, they had been some of the best hours he had had in the last few years.  
He stepped through the doors at the other end of the corridor, still thinking of Paul and that he should probably call him once he got home. What time was it now on Deneva? He furrowed his brow, trying to make the calculation but by now the fatigue had really caught up with him.  
The hospital corridor in front of him was mostly empty, it was late after all, and he had taken his time getting changed and scrubbed, not quite ready to meet his colleagues. They could congratulate him tomorrow, once he had slept. He nodded at one of the night nurses and turned a corner, making his way towards the room set aside for senior medical officers. Entering his access code, he stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders. It was really time he got home.  
The room was dimly lit and as the door slid open and he could see a solitary figure standing at one of the windows, a travel bag next to their feet. Except for the night shift, no one should have been here at this hour.  
“Can I help you?” he asked, stopping just inside the door.  
“I don’t know. Can you?”  
For a moment, he felt like the floor had dropped out from under him and he was falling rapidly. And then Paul had turned around and was smiling at him. And before he had decided to do so, he had closed the distance between them and found himself encircled in the other man’s arms, his forehead resting against Paul’s shoulder. And that, feeling him solid under his fingers, smelling his aftershave and the whiff of his shampoo made it real. He was really here.  
He stepped back, his hands remaining on Paul’s shoulders, happiness suddenly filling him to bursting.  
“What are you doing here?”  
Paul, his own hands resting on Hugh’s waist, lifted his eyebrows. His eyes were brilliantly blue in this moment and part of Hugh wondered how he had ever lived without them in his world.  
“Watching your surgery of course,” he said, the smile on his face matched by the one in his voice. “I could not miss this.” He lifted his right hand and cupped Hugh’s face. Hugh leaned into the touch and closedd his eyes for a moment. Suddenly, he felt so tired that he could have fallen asleep then and there. But Paul’s voice drew him back and made him open his eyes again.  
“You were…magnificent,” Paul said with a smile, his thumb softly tracing the line of Hugh’s cheekbone.  
He smiled, relishing the warmth of Paul’s fingers against his skin.  
“Why aren’t you kissing me, then?” Paul laughed, short and surprised and then leaned in, his hand slipping from Hugh’s cheek to cup the back of his head.

The streets were mostly empty when they exited the hospital. The night air was cool and the moon was almost full. They did not talk much as Hugh led the way to his quarters and if he had been less tired, it would maybe have made him worry more. But right now, he was just enjoying Paul’s presence next to himself. He glanced over and met Paul’s eyes. And then he felt Paul’s hand slip into his for a moment and he couldn’t help but smile. He squeezed Paul’s fingers softly and was sorry when Paul pulled back.  
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, and then: “Here we are.” He keyed in his access code and then stepped back to allow Paul to walk in in front of him.  
“Left,” he said, putting his hand on Paul’s shoulder and steering him in the right direction. Paul turned his head and smiled at him again, and then he felt his arms sneaking around his waist and for a moment he wished the walk to his door was longer. But they reached it within a few steps and he had to take his hand away from Paul’s shoulder to type in his access code again. The doors slid open and this time he walked in first.  
“Computer, lights to 70%.” He turned around and opened his arms. “So, this is it.” And then he had to cover his face to hide a yawn.  
Paul stopped and he could see a hint of worry cross his face. “Hugh, I’m sorry, should I….you must be very tired. I can…”  
He gestured towards the door and even though Hugh knew that his heart could not drop out of his chest and through the floor, that’s what it felt like.  
“No, yes, don’t,” he had to stifle another yawn and then took two steps to close the distance between them. “Please, stay,” he said, taking Paul’s hands in his. “I can’t promise I’ll stay awake for long tonight, but I’d like you to stay. Preferably until you have to leave.”  
Relief was plain on Paul’s face. He squeezed Hugh’s hands and then let go of them to put his hands on his chest, running them down the front of his uniform.  
“It’s good to be here,” he said, his eyes never leaving Hugh’s. They stood like this for a moment, both marveling at the presence of the other man. They had gotten to know each other well through their frequent video chats but being in the same room together all of a sudden was overwhelming. And Hugh could still feel every bone in his body. So he was thankful when Paul stepped back and suggested that he go and take a shower while he fixed something to eat. So a while later, he was sitting on his couch in his regulation pajama, legs stretched out in front of him. Paul had blushed slightly when he had stepped out of the bathroom, a sight Hugh was looking forward to seeing again, once he wasn’t so tired. Now, Paul had draped one arm around his shoulder and Hugh was resting his head against Paul’s chest, getting dizzy from Paul’s scent. They had stopped talking a while ago, and he could feel himself sinking into sleep.  
Until Paul nudged him softly.  
“No, no, no, no sleeping on the couch, Dr. Culber,” he said, softly stroking his shoulder.  
Hugh let out a low sigh, unwilling to move again, but Paul was insistent.  
“Come, now, Hugh, let’s get you to bed.”  
“Hmmm, only if you come with,” he murmured, blinking his eyes open as he felt himself being pushed into a sitting position.  
And Paul laughed again, softly, and he could feel his hand brushing against the back of his head.  
“Anything you want.”  
Lying down was a relief and he snuggled into his pillow, pulling the blanket up so that it was covering his shoulders. He could hear Paul in the bathroom, but had almost completely fallen asleep when the mattress moved underneath him and cool air rushed in when the blanket was lifted. He let out a soft sound, a sigh that might have been a question had he been awake enough to form one.  
“Shhh, go to sleep,” Paul’s voice is soft and low, and it’s almost the last thing he remembers. The last is Paul’s arm slipping in underneath his own, and coming to rest against his chest.

When he woke again and turned to find the bed next to him empty, he wondered whether he had dreamed Paul’s visit and for a moment there was a sinking feeling in his chest. But then he heard noises from the kitchen.  
He half sighed, half laughed at himself and stretched languidly. _What’s gotten into you?_  
He slipped out of bed and made his way over to the kitchen-cum-living room that was part of the standard quarters for medical officers of his rank. Paul was sitting on one of the barstools that were grouped around a high table in the kitchen area to the right, his back turned to the replicator, stove, and fridge. The sun was streaming in and streaking across his face and hair. In his left hand, he was holding a PADD and frowning at it in a way that Hugh recognized from their video-chats. When he was scrunching up his eyebrows like this, it meant that whatever he was looking at was puzzling him. Or that he was disagreeing with someone else’s conclusions. Hugh felt a smile form on his face at the familiar sight and he felt just like the evening before, effortlessly happy.  
“Are you ever not working?” he finally asked, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms.  
Paul startled slightly and almost knocked over the glass of tea that his other hand had been lazily curled around. He looked over at Hugh and his eyebrows smoothed out when he smiled.  
“Oh, sometimes, when the company is good,” he said, and there was the Paul Stamets who had asked him for his contact information at the shuttle station on Alpha Centauri.  
“Oh, really?” Hugh pushed himself off of the wall and leisurely made his way over to the kitchen area.  
“Yeah, really,” Paul said, with a glint in his eyes as he put down his PADD. He turned as Hugh made his way around the table. Hugh came to stand between Paul’s legs and put his hands on his thighs. Was he imagining it, or did he hear a short, sharp intake of breath from the other man?  
“And what do you think about the company here, Dr. Stamets?”  
“Oh, I think the company is excellent,” Paul said and his voice sounded a little strained. And then he reached out and his warm hand settled on Hugh’s neck, making the hairs on his arms stand up despite the warmth of the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window. Hugh had meant to say something else, but did not resist when Paul pulled him in for a kiss. It was soft and slow, both of them carefully getting to know the other one. Hugh let his hands slowly slide up Paul’s legs until they rested on his waist and he could feel a small shiver run through him at his touch. Paul’s hand was still cupped around the back of his head when they separated for air, while his other one had found its way to the small of Hugh’s back to pull him closer.  
“Good morning,” Paul whispered, holding Hugh’s eyes, but also slipping his right foot around Hugh’s leg and sliding it up his thigh.  
“It is,” Hugh said, before closing the distance between them again, this time for a more insistent kiss. He felt his knees go weak for a moment when Paul opened his mouth to his probing tongue. And again when Paul let out soft moan when Hugh managed to lift his shirt and slip his hands underneath it. 

Later, they were lying on Hugh’s couch again and this time Paul’s head was resting on Hugh’s chest. Hugh was drawing patterns on Paul’s left shoulder, making him shiver and reach up to take Hugh’s hand and intertwine it with his. Hugh felt warm and heavy and he would probably doze off again if they didn’t get up soon, but right now, nothing could have moved him from this spot. He looked at Paul’s hand in his and lifted them up for a moment.  
“Thank you for coming,” he found himself saying all of a sudden and he could see Paul making and effort to lift his head slightly and open his eyes again.  
“For you any time,” he murmured before letting his head fall back against Hugh’s chest. Hugh shifted a little to pull him closer and then allowed the warmth of the other man’s body pressed to his and the sound of his breathing to pull him under.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set just after the Battle at the Binary Stars. So there's a little bit of angst in this one.

“Hey!” Hugh smiled when Paul appeared on his screen. He was sitting on his bed, his legs in the usual black pants—sometimes he wondered if Paul owned pants in any other color—drawn up and his hands resting on them. Something in Paul’s posture, maybe his head, which was hanging low and turned away from the viewscreen, showing only his profile, maybe the forlorn look on his face, made him stop, though, and wrinkle his brow.  
“I everything alright?”  
“I did it,” Paul said, suddenly sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “Or we did.” He shook his head and glanced at Hugh.  
“You…” he tilted his head. “You joined?” Hugh felt his stomach flip slightly at the thought. Paul had mentioned Starfleet’s offer and Straal’s ultimatum when he had returned from Alpha Centauri and he had watched Paul pace back and forth, slicing his hands through the air while talking—well, ranting, really—about why he did not want his research in Starfleet’s hands. Hugh had listened mostly. At one point he had said: “You know, Starfleet isn’t all bad….”  
Paul had stopped his pacing for a second and thrown him a pointed look.  
“I know that _you_ think that,” if he hadn’t known Paul well enough by now, that remark might have hurt him.   
“Well, since you’re the only ones understanding your theories, there’s not much they could do without your cooperation,” he had continued. This was not quite true—even for science officers orders were orders. But there _were_ regulations limiting the type of research Starfleet was allowed to do. And from what Paul had been saying, the Fleet was mostly interested in the possibilities for travel that the mycelial network offered, not any weapons’ capability.  
“They’re still a military organization. And who knows what those Admirals might decide to use our work for. And I don’t know what Straal is thinking…” And with that, Paul had resumed walking up and down.  
But even back then—was that really only a few days ago?—the thought of Paul joining Starfleet had made something inside him sing. _If you did, we might be able to get a posting together someday…_ The thought had made him feel warm inside, but he had swallowed it down.   
Now, he could see the doubt written across Paul’s face and wished he was there with him. Sometimes, when he was video-chatting with Paul like this, he wished he wasn’t an officer for the tiniest moment and could just leave and visit him whenever he wanted. He had rarely had these moments, and even now it had only happened once or twice and to his own astonishment.  
“Paul…”  
“Am I doing the right thing?” Paul’s brows were creased in a way that looked almost painful, and Hugh wished he could run his thumb across them to smooth those wrinkles.   
“You’re getting funding for your research. More funding than you’ve ever had. And you’ll create a new way of space travel. Like Zefram Cochrane.”  
“Tsss…” Paul snorted derisively, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. “Is there a part about ‘flattering unwilling scientists’ in the Starfleet Book of Conduct and I just haven’t gotten to it yet?”  
Hugh laughed and shook his head.  
“No.” He chuckled again, shaking his head and then looked back up at Paul. “So, do you already know about your ship?” He asked, smiling, making a mental note to request an appointment with the station’s Captain the next day.  
“She’s the…” Paul picked up a PADD that had been lying next to him and glances at it “U.S.S. Discovery. We’re supposed to ‘report for duty’ in two months. They’re still constructing the ship and wanting feedback on the spore drive. Some of the questions they’re asking are downright stupid, so I don’t know….”  
Paul rambled on for a while and Hugh could tell that he’s still wrestling with uneasiness about his decision. In time, he would come around and start liking Starfleet. At least a little bit, Hugh hoped. 

Paul was staring down at his PADD, reading through a new list of questions he had been sent by the engineers working to finish the _Discovery_.   
“Unbelievable….” he murmured, glancing up as he turned a corner. His temporary quarters, really just a bed, a desk and a bathroom with one window, were at the end of the corridor on his right. They’d packed up their old lab and made sure all their specimens were stored properly for the trip a week ago and then moved to Tranquility Base, where the Discovery and Straal’s future ship the Glenn were under construction. Once they were done next month and they would be able to board and go on their maiden voyages. He and Straal had already been sent the replicator patterns for the uniforms and their badges, but Paul’s was still sitting in its black box on the desk in his room. His commission would only officially begin once the ship was done, and until then he would wear his civilian clothing.   
He’d reached his door and is punching in his access code, when the lights around him suddenly turn red and there’s a high, piercing sound echoing through the corridor.  
“Red alert. All hands to stations,” the computerized voice echoes off the narrow walls. “I repeat, red alert. The Federation has been attacked.”  
Paul is stunned for a moment, and simply stands and watches as the doors lining the corridor open, spilling out Starfleet personnel in different states of undress, hastily zipping up uniform jackets and pulling on boots. He stepped back to let people pass, hearing them call out to each other.  
“We’ve been attacked?”  
“By whom?”  
“What do we do now?”  
After a moment, he joined the throng of people and made his way to one of the communal rooms, jostling against people rushing about. _Great, I’ve let Straal talk me into this and now Starfleet has gone and gotten itself into a fight. Perfect._ There was another thought that he was not quite allowing himself to have.  
He made it to the temporal lab space almost at the same time as Straal. Other civilians were also gathered here, turned towards one of the viewscreens in hopes of more information. He nods at Straal and they sat down at one of the tables without a word. And what was there to say, really. Part of him was hoping that this is some kind of drill, but given people’s reactions, it was hard to convince himself of that. The red alert kept sounding out several times more, but there was no more information. Nothing. An officer looked in on them once, called out a name and then escorts off the woman jumping out of her chair, but that was it. There’s no more information for quite a while and, slowly, some people started to talk. Paul has pulled out his PADD and his refreshing it every few minutes, but there’s no news on the official Federation channels either. And then the computer’s voice sounded through the room again. “Red Alert. Starfleet vessels have been attacked near Starbse 234. All medical personnel, report to sickbay immediately, prepare for beam out and emergency protocol.”  
“Starbase 234?” Straal looked at Paul, but he couldn’t answer. The small kernel of dread that had been sitting at the base of his stomach since the alarms first sounded was unfurling, boring its tendrils through him. He abruptly pushed his chair back, and heard it clatter to the floor, heard Straal calling his name, but he was already across the threshold of the room, his hand clasped around his PADD so firmly that his fingers are turning white.  
Starbase 234 kept echoing through his head. And _Hugh. Hugh just traveled to Starbase 234 for a consultation._  
He somehow made it to his room, still bumping into Starfleet types rushing through the corridors and chucked the PADD onto the bed.  
“Computer, call Doctor Culber.”  
“Initiating……” he paced up and down as the call is being connected, glaring at the Starfleet logo that is occupying the screen, his hands tightly intertwined. The logo kept shimmering for several minutes and then “Connection is not possible.”  
“Dammit,” he slammed his right hand on the desk so hard that he can feel something shift at the base of his middle finger.   
“Computer, try again…”  
He repeated that order so many times he lost track of the number of attempts at some point. It must have been a few users since the initial alarm. The alert was still sounding out from time to time, but mostly, the reports coming over the comm system now are orders for different groups of officers to report to a shuttle and be transported to a ship or to get ready for a beam out.   
At some point, he found himself sitting on his bed, his forehead resting against his clasped hands. He blinked his eyes, which felt dry and tired, but he was still to tense to go to sleep. To afraid. So he pushed himself up, grabbed his PADD and left his room. After wandering the halls for a while—they’ve gotten less busy now—he makes it to the observation deck that looks out onto shipyard 3, where the Discovery is being constructed. The deck is high up in the air, jutting out like a balcony just below the saucer section. The engineers had finally listened to some of his and Straal’s suggestions and adopted their design for a spinning saucer section. Paul sat down heavily and leaned his PADD against his knees, trying to establish a connection again. Without a result.  
He stared at the PADD without really seeing it. _He’s just busy saving people. They said close to the Starbase, not at the base. He’s fine. He’s gotta be fine._  
Later, he could not say how long he sat there, these thoughts chasing each other around his head, sometimes interrupted by images of Hugh hurt in a badly damaged corridor. Hugh on a stretcher, blood on his face.   
At some point he maybe dozed off, jumping when his PADD clatters to the ground. And at some point, Straal found him, putting down a cup of tea next to him and sipping from another cup himself.  
“He’ll be fine,” Straal said, but Paul only shoots him a look. He did not want to talk. Not now. If he started, he would probably not stop. So they sat in silence, staring at the ship. There’s only a skeleton crew at work right now, operating the large cranes and assembly robots. Most of the engineers have probably been pulled off to repair incoming ships that have been damaged.   
_What if I never see him again?_ The thought had been underlying all the others and it suddenly rings out loud and clear, like a bell, drowning out all others. The first sob shook him bodily and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead into his knees, and squeezing his eyes shut. He could feel Straal’s hand settling on his shoulders but didn’t shake it off. _Deep breaths. He’s fine, he’s gotta be fine._  
And then, after what feels like a life time, his PADD started to ping.   
“Accept connection,” he barked and then Hugh’s face filled his screen and the look on his face made Paul’s stomach clench. He looked tired and worn out, his eyelids drooping slightly, and there was a hard set to his jaw. But he’s fine. Apart from all this he’s fine.   
“Hugh!” Paul’s voice sounded raw in his own years. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Straal getting up and walking away until he’s out or earshot.  
“Hey.”  
“You’re fine, thank God, you’re fine, “ Paul said and he wished he could reach through the screen and pull Hugh closer. Never let him go.  
Hugh did not respond but only nodded his head slightly. “I don’t have much time. We’ll have another wave of injured coming soon.” He took a shuddering breath. “Paul, there’s so many…”  
“I know, I know. Hugh, I’m so sorry,” Hugh tried to smile at that and that he couldn’t tore at Paul’s heart.  
“I just had to replace a Lieutenant’s eye and repair her skull with a provisional implant. We’ll have to do more work later, but she’s stable now….if she pulls through….”  
Paul just sat and listened, nodding and sometimes interjecting to reassure Hugh or slow him down. He’d only seen the aftermath of two surgeries that did not go well and those were different. It had taken Hugh a lot longer to open up about those, but now the words just came pouring out of him, making everything too real for Paul. Starfleet was at war and they were both at war with it. And soon he would be on the Discovery and who knows how much time they’d have for calls then. His stomach clenched at that thought and he pushed it down, focusing on Hugh.  
“…so we’ll have to monitor him over the next few days.” Hugh said and then he stopped, looking even more tired than before.  
“Hugh….” Paul shook his head and then tried to smile. “Do you want me to come out? I can try to get on one of the ships leaving here.”   
But Hugh shook his head. “They won’t let you. Not now while you’re still a civilian….Paul…” There’s a voice coming from somewhere Paul couldn’t see and Hugh sighed. “I’m sorry….I need to go.” Getting up from where he was sitting, Hugh was slowly turning away.  
“I love you,” Paul said, maybe more forcefully than he intended. Hugh glanced back at him and this time, his smile was a bit closer to normal.  
“Love you too.” And then the screen flickered and went back to the Federation logo. And Paul continued sitting on the deck, feeling like someone has emptied him out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugh and Paul can finally meet up again, but then Hugh hits a last-minute delay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chronologically, this is earlier than the other two chapters. But since this is more a collection for my "early Culmets" writing than a coherent, chronological fic, I decided to add it as a third chapter anyway. I hope you enjoy!

Hugh had been looking forward to the ship’s return to Earth after their latest, months-long mission supplying colonies with medicine, materials, and sometimes following up on earlier diplomatic missions with alien species the Federation had come into contact with. He loved his job and liked the ship and his crewmates, but he also looked forward to being in New York City again, in his own apartment, with his own things. And to have all his time at his own disposal. He didn’t chafe against Starfleet regulations and duty shifts, had been in the service for too long and found his place in it, but it was nice to not think in chunks of time labeled Alpha, Beta, or Delta. Most of all, however, he had been looking forward to seeing Paul, who had suggested taking a detour after attending a conference on Vulcan, and visiting Hugh for a week.   
With thirty minutes left in his last shift before his time off was supposed to start and a little more than two hours until their arrival on Earth, Hugh had already been thinking about which of their many ideas for their time together they should tackle when. Had thought about Paul, probably already almost at the spaceport by now, and then alarms had started blaring, alerting them to an accident in Engineering that required urgent medical attention.  
He had remembered one of his teachers at the Academy saying: “Don’t daydream about a vacation until you’re actually off the ship” and it had almost made him laugh.  
He had barely had time to dash off a message apologizing to Paul before being pulled into triage and emergency surgeries:

*I’m sorry Paul, will be late. Emergency. Attaching my access code, but you still have it from last time, right? Love you.*

Now, several hours later, he’s stepping off of the transporter pad, still in his uniform, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, and feeling like he might fall asleep where he is if he stands still for too long. But when he does get to his apartment, he does stop for a moment, listening. But there’s no sound and most of the lights are out, except for a rectangle of silvery light pouring out of the opened bedroom door ahead and to the right. He puts his bag down by the coat rack and slips out of his uniform boots before he walks down the hall towards the door. The sight he finds makes him halt again, captivated.   
Paul is lying on top of the covers, his right hand resting on his chest, while his left is thrown wide and almost seems to be reaching across the mattress. His right leg is bent at the knee, his foot almost touching his left thigh. And he is completely naked. In the moonlight streaming in through the window, his skin looks even paler and Hugh allows himself a few moments to just take in this scene and the wave of love for this man that threatens to overwhelm him. He only snaps out of it when he almost staggers into the door frame from tiredness and has to catch himself with one hand. With a last, lingering look at Paul, he turns around and takes the few steps to the bathroom that’s at the end of the hall, directly across from the front door.   
He only stays under the water a few minutes before he steps out again and quickly dries himself off. He ignores the neatly folded pajamas on the small shelf by the door and slips back into the bedroom and tiptoeing closer to the bed.   
Paul is still fast asleep, hasn’t even moved since Hugh left for the bathroom. He’s beautiful, his paleness accentuated in the silver light and there’s something so vulnerable in the relaxation that comes with sleep that Hugh’s heart clenches a little. When he sits down and swings his legs up, Paul makes a low, questioning sound, his brows furrowing a little. The fingers on his left hand move slightly, closing a little, and Hugh stops for a moment, waiting to see if he woke Paul up. When nothing else happens, he leans forward, to grab the extra blanket sitting at the foot of the bed and unfolds it, pulling it up over both of them. When he shifts to lie down, Paul makes another sound and when he turns towards him, he can see just a sliver of blue glinting in the moonlight.   
“Hush, it’s just me,” Hugh doesn’t let his voice rise above a whisper, “Go back to sleep, my love.” Paul is probably not even really awake, and Hugh doesn’t want to risk pulling him further out of sleep. He softly strokes through Paul’s hair and the way his eyes slide closed again he thinks he is right about Paul’s level of wakefulness. Paul’s lets out a long sigh, but his next breaths are all deep and even and Hugh smiles softly. He doesn’t have Hugh’s ability—honed through years of training at the Academy—to be wide awake in basically an instant and in moments like this one, when his duty keeps him longer than he wants it to, Hugh is thankful for that. He stretches slightly, curling his toes, glad to finally be off his feet and lets his eyes rest on Paul’s face. His beautiful, perfect, beloved face.   
Paul’s hair is silky against his fingers, no trace of product in them, so he probably showered, too, after getting in. Hugh can feel his own eyes drifting closed and for a second he is tempted to fight sleep so he can study Paul’s face some more, only about two handspans away from his own right now and graced by the beginnings of a smile, but he is too tired after all. But he does still feel the arm that slides across his waist and is vaguely aware of hooking his leg over Paul’s hip before sleep settles over him fully. 

He comes back to wakefulness slowly, at first only aware of feeling warm and safe before his awareness of himself spreads further, to the weight spread across his chest, the soft hairs tickling him, and the soft breaths of air that are sweeping across the skin below his pecs. An arm is wrapped insistently across him and around his waist, and he can feel another one pressed against his side. When he shifts slightly, he can feel a leg that is tucked between his. He moves his own right hand, enjoying the soft skin underneath it. He almost wonders that he doesn’t have to push away any fabric to get at the skin and then his memories of the night before come back to him. Of Paul, on his bed, completely naked and bathed in moonlight. He opens his eyes and lifts his head slightly to be able to look down at Paul, half on top of him and with his head buried against his chest. Right now all he can see is the back of his head and his bent neck. He smiles and lets his head drop onto the pillow again, his fingers still softly caressing the skin on Paul’s back.   
It is always nice not to have to be somewhere, not to have a duty roster to think about, but it’s especially nice if that coincides with having Paul with him. Especially a Paul who has taken time off work himself. The thought has only just occurred to him when it is followed immediately by another one.  
‘No PADDs.’  
He hadn’t had to pick any PADDs off the bed before joining Paul. Not even one. Which means….he lifts his head and looks down at Paul again, just in time to see him tense and shift. There’s a soft mumble and then Paul turns his head and looks up at him, his eyes only half open.   
“Good morning, love,” he says slightly increasing the pressure of his fingers against Paul’s back. “I’m sorry about last night.”  
“…’orning.” Paul blinks several times and then shifts some more until he is comfortable.  
“I’m sorry I spoiled your plans last night.”  
“Mmmmmh?”  
“You we’re waiting for me to come home, weren’t you? All naked on top of the sheets. And not even one PADD in sight.”   
Paul chuckles and then yawns, the slight stubble on his chin prickly against Hugh’s skin.   
“–was. But ‘s okay. You’re here now.”  
“I am. And I don’t want to go anywhere else.”  
“Good.” Paul’s arms tighten around him. “I wouldn’t let you.”  
“Oh, really?”  
“Mhm.” There’s a flash of mischief in Paul’s eyes and the wicked grin that Hugh loves curves up his lips.   
Hugh smiles and resumes caressing the skin on Paul’s back with his hand, drawing a long, content hum out of Paul.   
“How was your trip,” he asks after they spent a few minutes in silence.   
“Good. Quiet.” Paul yawns again and shifts around some more, repositioning his right arm a little. “Uneventful. Unlike yours?”  
“Accident in Engineering, but everyone will be fine.”  
Paul nods softly and then they fall silent again, luxuriating in each other’s presence. Hugh has always loved these moments the most, when he gets to just be with Paul. And still. He also wants something else. Looking down at his partner, his tousled blond hair and brilliant blue eyes, he licks his lips, but decide that he can wait a bit longer to see if Paul is up for reviving his plans from last night. Right now, he just wants to stay in the cocoon of warmth that is their bodies.

**Author's Note:**

> These are things I wrote during the mid-season break of S1 and/or after S1 had ended. I recently rediscovered them and decided to finally upload them here. 
> 
> I'll probably add other chapters since I do have more ideas around their long-distance relationship, but I have no idea when that will happen. Probably very irregularly.


End file.
